The Feeling of Hopeless Uselessness
by Miss-Statement
Summary: Useless. That's all there is. I mean, I'm sitting here on this bench waiting for someone to come along in order to properly relay all this hopelessness to. Not hopelessness for her: my sister, April. Hopelessness for me, Brenna, because there's nothing I can do for her. (One-shot for right now, light Grenna- and I hate Kieran, so if I ever write more beware. Friendship or Romance)


Useless.

That's all there is.

I mean, I'm sitting here on this bench waiting for someone to come along in order to properly relay all this hopelessness to. Not hopelessness for _her: _my sister, April. Hopelessness for _me,_ Brenna, because there's nothing I can do for her. Take that in for a second. There's nothing I can do for my sister. My older sister, April, who has leukemia. The one who has always been there for me, cleaning up my messes and picking up after my mistakes. To think I was happy when she started acting off.

And God- all there is, is that hopeless feeling of uselessness.

There's nothing I can do to ensure that in the end she'll be alright.

And maybe it's a little bit selfish.

April's going through all this pain, all this struggle. She's trying to pull through and be strong and act normal; like everything's alright. Like she might not die from cancer. And I'm freaking out inside, trying to hold all that I'm feeling in, but... the thing is? No matter how much I put on that front and that "tough guy" act, April's always been the strong one. She's the rock in the family that keeps us grounded, and I feel selfish for wanting her to live so that I hold onto that feeling as long as I possibly can. If she goes, who'll be my rock? Who'll clean up my mistakes? Who'll keep these secrets from the all-righteous force that is mom?

Who'll be there for me?

So I'm trying to keep on that strong act. Make it seem like I'm not as affected as I am. I need to act normal too. I need to act strong for her. But... Inside... I'm just me. Terrified, hopeless, useless feeling me- and I can't go to April about it. She's got enough on her plate already without worrying about me, again. I can't talk to her about something which I'm sure terrifies her even more. It'll just make it worse. I tried to talk to Kieran about it- ie _"My sister has cancer..." Oh really? Here: "It's a government conspiracy." _- and, oh yeah! Thanks ever so much for the love and support there, honey boo. You've made me feel sooo much better. In fact, telling me what might've caused my sister's cancer ensures me the comfort and hope that I was looking for. Maybe not even hope.

Just some comfort.

Like I said: I act strong, but inside I'm just scared little Brenna. Watching and waiting for something bad to happen.

Part of me, the pessimistic side, waiting for April to die.

Because, isn't that what's bound to happen?

Dad already died, I think, as if that's proof that it'll happen to April. And that was after he and mom divorced. And now April has cancer? I don't know. Maybe I'm counting my losses, but fate- or God- of life- or whatever the hell deity you believe in- it seems like they've dealt me a sore hand so far. I don't want to be right. More than anything, I don't want to be right. The overriding part of me's telling me that I am and April's going to die. I'm going to lose my rock. I'm going to lose my sister.

And I can't even be strong enough to help her through this time.

There's nothing I can do.

Hence, the overwhelming hopeless feeling of uselessness.

Hence, trying to seek comfort in Kieran, which didn't work (and, if anything? made worse-).

Hence... why I texted you.

Of course, I'm not going to _verbally _tell you all this. Ha, me? Admit to actually feeling anything inside? Admit to not being tough, and strong, and rebellious? Admit to actually liking being lazy and staying home, and hating how much I go to parties for the wrong sort of people?

Not going to happen. Like, ever.

But, I'm sitting on this bench at the amphitheater, and I'm waiting for you to get here, and I don't know exactly why. Not "why" for any of it. Maybe, if I gave it any thought (and I haven't), it's because you make me smile. Because I know, even if I don't really know, that you've got my best interests at heart. Maybe, if I can't find the comfort from the person who's supposed to provide a little of that to me about this uselessness I'm feeling, maybe I can find that in you.

I don't know.

You make me smile.

And April can't deal with this right now, and neither can I. But, God, I feel so stupid for texting you. What was I thinking? Like, I just expected you to drop everything in the middle of the night and drive halfway across town to come meet with me _without _giving you a reason why when we're barely acquaintances? But you replied, and now you're here, acting like it's your pleasure and not as strange as it is to come meet with me in the dead of night, and...

I kind of need you.

- But I can't actually say that. I can't actually say any of this. But, _you know_, don't you? Can't you read it in the way I immediately get stand up when you get here? The way my hands are trying not to hold onto each other and I sheepishly smile? The way I can't, I absolutely can't, look you in the eyes when I do start to speak? And even then- it's so difficult to find the words. I think you read me better than I even care to admit... the problem is that I'm starting to care.

You're studying me, looking at me intently, carefully, and I everything I'm trying not to be seems to start tumbling to the surface. _"I was kind of surprised to hear from you,"_ you say, and I'm acutely aware of how strange this is. We don't really know each other at all- but something- something is there.

_"I hope it's okay,"_ those worries are popping back up. I really shouldn't have called. I wanted you to be here, someone to be here, but it's better to be alone and I can't- I shouldn't- I look away from your searching eyes. _"There's just a lot of stuff going down at my house right now, and I had to get away."_

_"You don't have to talk about that if you don't want to,"_ you say, and maybe it's this that makes me want to say it. To open up. It's in your words and careful demeanor that I know that whether I speak about it or not, you'll still be there for me. More than that: You're giving me a choice. For once, it seems like I've been given a choice. It's an open-ended statement. You gave me the option to not do anything that I don't want to- and that's never seemed like an option before- but I want to. Honestly, I have to. I have to get it out.

_"I just wanted to be around someone who would... Make me..."_ Smile, laugh, comfort me, hold me. When I begin to speak I have to look at you in order to convey this, but I can't say the words._ "I don't know."_ 'm floundering for something that I'm feeling, but I don't know the words. My throat is beginning to close up as quiet, somewhat raspy words come from my mouth, _"Feel better." _

I couldn't say the words, but you can see the implication... can't you?

It's much more simplified than it actually is.

You can see the tears in my eyes, and you're leaning a little closer, _"Brenna, what happened?"_

_"My sister's really sick,"_ I croak, and before I know what's happening you've swept me into your arms without saying another word and there's a flutter in my chest. Those tears are falling, and I'm free. You don't give me some shoddy excuse, you don't try to tell me it's going to be alright, you don't try to overanalyze or control the situation, and you don't act like everything is perfectly fine. You empathize with me, and then you hold me close. You hold me close, you keep me warm, and you're there for me in a way that no one else has been so far.

Part of me wants to cry, and part of me wants to-

I can't actually say any of these things aloud, or any of the things I'm starting to feel, but _you know. _Sometimes, it's almost like you can see me beneath the person on the surface. See me for the real me; see me for who I am, when even I don't know who that is.

And there are new feelings starting to rise. I'm beginning to see things in a different way. My perspective has shifted, and...

Well, now I have you.

And I kind of like that.

* * *

**A.N.**

**So, here I am- scrolling through tumblr- and I see a blog post about there needing to be more of these fics. I mean, it's not exactly Grenna yet, but there is a touch of something here. It's kind of early in the series, and maybe we haven't been fed enough from the show in order to be inspired to write, but if you're reading this something is better than nothing. I think.**

**In any case, I may write another fic later or add another chapter to this one.**

**Just, keep in mind, though I ship Grenna like crazy- the tv series kind of sucks. It's just, the actors kind of feel like they're overacting and I think the storyline pace is too fast- all the relationships are developing too fast- and I know that it's a drama, but I haven't been drawn into it enough for me to feel much for any of the characters except for maybe Brenna and Greer, a hell of a lot of anger at Kieran, and a lot of empathy for April and her family. My mom had breast cancer. She's all good now, but, I wanted to see how real ABC would keep it.**

**I'm still reserving judgment.**

**But yeah- shipping Grenna like crazy. So let me know what you think. :)**


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